A Flower's Bloom
by Profound Yaoi
Summary: When everything becomes too much to handle, Harry makes a decision that will change his life forever. There is no turning back. Warning: Rated M; contains trans-gender theme, sexual situations and profanity. Disclaimer: We own nothing to do with Harry Potter or its characters. The plot is our own.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **_This story is a project that I have been working on with Vodoodollz for some time now. It contains trans-gender themes, a slowly-built Harry/Severus relationship (Harry will be a woman by the time he and Severus end up together). This is the journey Harry takes to give himself a normal life. This is rated M for future chapters and themes. Please read with caution. If you are offended by anything in this fiction, including sex changes, profanity and/or sexual situations, I suggest you stop reading here._

_ We do not own anything to do with Harry Potter and earn nothing from this story. The plot is Vodoodollz' while I merely give it flesh. Please enjoy!_

**Prologue**

"_In the end, it's not the years in your life that count, it's the life in your years." _

– _Abraham Lincoln._

**Hogwarts Battle, May, 1998**

Harry wasted no time in watching Voldemort crumple to the ground, dead. He ignored the sudden silence and subsequent roaring of triumphant cheers as he ran as fast as he could to the Shrieking Shack, Ron and Hermione following close behind.

"Harry! What –" Hermione called, puffing.

"Snape!" was the only reply she received; the only reply she or Ron needed to keep going.

_He needs me! He can't die; not now,_ was all that ran through his mind as he threw the door open from the tunnel under the Whomping Willow. He raced over to he still figure of his Potions professor, ignoring the tears running down his face.

There was so much blood. He frantically closed the wound with a charm he'd learned from the Half Blood Prince, checking for any sign of life.

The body was cold. But he felt it. A very faint pulse. It fluttered under his fingers weakly, making him sob with joy. He had a chance to save Snape.

"Hermione, help me get him to St Mungo's. He needs blood and potions. Ron, you go back to your family and make sure everyone's ok. Go! Now!" he barked, startling them into action. Ron nodded, squeezing Harry and Hermione's shoulders before running back through the passage to the school. Harry turned to Hermione. "Help me hold him still while I side-along you both. Just make sure we stick together as tightly as possible," he instructed, hauling the man up. "Wrap your arms around him and hold onto me. Don't let go."

Once he was sure they were as secure as possible, he apparated to the Emergency Ward in St Mungo's Hospital.

Upon his arrival, several medi-witches and wizards flocked over to him, taking Snape, placing him gently on a gurney. As the man was rushed away, Harry was bombarded with forms and questions from the medi-witch at the desk. Hermione was answering as many questions as she could, speaking rapidly with a Senior Healer.

In a daze, Harry filled out the forms for Snape as best he could, naming himself as next of kin and primary carer upon release.

X

Hours passed before they found out what had happened to their professor.

The Senior Healer from before came out, looking grave. Harry and Hermione rushed over to him, the worst possible scenarios playing in their minds.

"He's stable," said Healer Rothford. "But he's lost a lot of blood, and the venom from the bite caused a lot of tissue and nerve damage. It also affected his primary motor functions as well as his ability to speak," he paused as Hermione gasped, burying her face into Harry's shoulder. "But," he continued, "he will recover fully; with a strict regime of potions and rehabilitation. He will need someone to care for him and help him during his recovery," he turned to Harry. "Mr Potter, you're listed as both next of kin and primary carer, so I will need to speak with you privately," he darted a glance at Hermione.

. "Go ahead, Harry. I'll wait here."

"No. It's fine. Go back to Hogwarts and be with Ron. I'll let you know everything when I can." She nodded, hugging him briefly before leaving.

Harry and Rothford went to the healer's office to discuss Snape's recovery.

"Mr Potter," he hesitated, but pushed through at Harry's impatient glare. "You're very young. This kind of care is… time consuming and very strict. Are you sure you can take this on right now?"

"Of course!" he nearly barked. He was worried sick; only interested in answers.

"Very well. Your professor… is extremely dependant on you now. He has no capability to function as he once could. You will need to feed him the potions he needs to recover. You will need to ensure he has professional physical and speech therapies. You… will need to bathe him and keep him from soiling himself." He sighed, obviously unsure that Harry could – or _would_ – do all of this. "There are charms that may be applied every day, to make sure his bowel movements are regular and mess-free. But he will still need to wear an adult diaper just in case." Harry nodded, resolving himself to help the man who'd lost so much.

"Of course. I'll make sure he receives the care he needs. If I can't do something myself, I'll pay a professional."

"Good. Now, you will need to keep in mind that he will still be himself. He will remember everything. But he won't be able to speak until the speech therapy and necessary potions are taken. This stage alone will take months.

"The potions to replenish the lost blood and lost or damaged tissue and nerves will take about six months to complete. But, only in the last two months will he be fit to start physical therapy. You will have to feed him and make sure he doesn't choke." He looked and sounded very weary. "There are qualified Healers and medi-witches here if you would prefer to leave him in the care of the hospital. It's up to you, Mr Potter."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter One**

**November 15, 1998**

Severus was able to leave the hospital; Harry had visited for hours every single day for the past three months, making sure the man had everything he could possibly need.

Harry knew he'd never be able to provide the care Severus needed to the quality a professional could, so he paid St Mungo's to perform the duties he couldn't. He felt guilty at first, but realised soon enough that it was the best choice.

Since Voldemort's defeat in May, Harry had been mobbed and hounded by not only the press, but fans. Every day, he would be followed from his doorstep (well, from the end of the wards at Grimmauld Place) to his destination. His Floo network was monitored closely, not even affording him a chance to escape privately. Visiting Severus had been an escape for him. Now that the grouchy man was being released, he was worried he'd have no respite.

However, when Severus was wheeled to him in the waiting room, Harry couldn't help but grin. It was good to see the man out of the flimsy hospital gown and in his own clothes; out of bed.

"You look much better," he greeted, coming to crouch before his friend.

"Nonsense. I look as sickly and pale as always. Get me out of here," came the snarky reply.

"Yes, sir," he grinned again, taking the wheelchair from the medi-wizard.

Once they were at the Floo grate in the public area of St Mungo's, Harry lifted Severus as gently as possible, holding him close.

"Ok there?" he checked before stepping in.

"Just hurry up." He chuckled at the bark.

"Grimmauld Place," he said clearly, holding Severus tight.

They arrived in the living room of the old Order HQ; Harry managing not to trip and fall on top of Severus.

"Couch or bed?" He asked, carefully manoeuvring his friend out of the hearth.

"Very romantic," Severus deadpanned, making him laugh.

"You're heavy, you know," he huffed, readjusting his grip.

"I do apologise. I will try to eat less in future. Just sit me on the couch, you oaf," he grumbled.

"Oaf? Do you know how difficult it is to carry a grown man through the Floo, and _not_ fall over, then move him _out _of the grate without _dropping_ him?"

"Yes. I do it frequently."

"Git," he chuckled, flopping down beside Severus when he'd placed the man gently on the couch. "You're doing well, Severus," he said, becoming serious. "I mean… you can feed yourself after only a few weeks! All you need to do is start walking." He grinned, wrapping an arm around the other's bony shoulders.

"Yes, well… I owe you everything, don't I?" came the soft reply.

Over the months, Harry and Severus had become close. After one spectacular screaming match, Harry had convinced the stoic old bastard to open up.

"I've seen your memories, Severus! If you can't talk to me, who _can _you talk to?" he'd ended up murmuring to the depressed man, holding him close after a while; letting his professor cry silently.

After that, he'd been able to help Severus through his depression and in turn, spoke about his own life.

"No. You don't owe me anything. You've saved me so many times. I owe you more than I can say. I want to take care of you, Sev," he grabbed the bony hand closest to him, squeezing gently.

"When I can use my wand again, I'll hex you every time you try to hold my hand," he growled, feebly trying to pull away.

"Shut up, you old grump. I'm being nice to you."

"Nice! You're smothering me!"

It continued on; the two bickering over everything and nothing until it was time for bed.

"Potter! I can bathe myself!"

"You can_not!_ Snape, so _help_ me, I'm going to _Stupefy _you and bathe you like that, if you _don't. Stop. Struggling!"_

X

**November 28, 1998**

"Good, Severus," Rothford praised, letting the man sit back in his wheelchair. Harry was watching another physical therapy session; Severus had spent the past hour walking between two beams, supporting himself with a hand on either side.

For the past week, Severus had been living with Harry in Grimmauld Place. It had been… eventful. Every day, Harry took Severus to St Mungo's for a session with either Rothford, or a medi-witch or –wizard if he had something else demanding his attention.

With a silent determination, Severus walked between the beams, back and forth, a scowl on his face every time he'd had to stop.

"You're improving. You've only been relearning to walk for a week and you can nearly go for an hour. I'm impressed," the kind healer said, returning to his desk.

"Yes, I have advanced to toddler level. I am truly amazing," he drawled.

Harry stood, coming to Severus' side, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Stop being an arse. Accept the damn praise," he grinned. "You did good, old man," he dodged a fist, laughing.

"You mean I did 'well'," he snarked, glaring up at the boy.

"That too."

"Get me out of here."

They bid adieu to Rothford; one with a grin, the other with a stoic nod, and left for the public Floo access.

"He's helping you. You should be nicer to him," Harry said, helping his friend to stand.

"You're paying him to help me. He isn't doing this out of the kindness of his heart, Potter." He wrapped his arms around the boy's shoulders, steadying himself for the impending Floo ride.

"Even so, you should be grateful he doesn't palm you off to someone else. He's the Senior Healer and he's the best."

"He'd better be, for the amount your shelling out," he grumbled. "It would be easier to side-along, you know."

"Yes. But that means being mobbed by reporters and crazy people. If we use the Floo, we can just get home without seeing anybody. Or, rather, without _them_ seeing _us_." Severus just sighed, apparently deciding that silence was the best response.

X

Once they were home, Harry deposited the man on the arm chair with a grunt.

"You get heavier as your muscle develops," he complained, flopping down on the couch. Severus just glared. "Not that it's a bad thing!" he denied quickly.

"Go away," Severus huffed, crossing his arms. Harry made a hasty retreat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Two**

For nearly a year, Harry accompanied Severus to his physical therapy appointments.

When he was going about his daily errands, he found himself mobbed; one time ending with his robes being ripped and the button stolen by one of his many fans.

In September of 1999, he'd started buying anything he needed by owl. The only time he left the house was when he accompanied Severus to the hospital. Even when his former professor moved back to Spinner's End, they used the Floo to travel; but even the Floo Network was being tracked, so people had started milling around Severus' doorstep – until he'd pulled a particularly stern glare and casually slipped his wand into his hand, crossing his arms, leaning against the door frame.

So, now, Harry's only relief from his crazy life was visiting Severus.

**November 1, 1999**

He sat down at the rickety table, on the rickety chair, and accepted a cup of tea with a tired smile.

"Thanks, Sev," he sipped the brew, sighing contentedly when it warmed him.

"You look awful."

"Thanks, Sev," he repeated sarcastically. "This is ridiculous; I'm hiding in your kitchen, from my own life! I've been buying groceries by owl for about two months now!

"Everywhere I go, some crazy person wants to talk to me, take photos with me, hug me; just… _touch_ me! I had a _button_ stolen, Severus! A friggin' _button_! I'm so tired of everything that's going on right now. I'm being mobbed because I killed someone. Don't people usually go to Azkaban for that?" He glared down at his tea, tracing the rim of the cup with his thumbs. "I'm so tired…" he muttered warily.

"_You're_ tired? If I see another one of your insipid fans lurking around, I'm going to hex them so a bell chimes incessantly whenever they come within twenty feet of you," he snarked, a little smirk of amusement lightening his tone.

"You're too good to me, Sev," he grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes. Severus softened, speaking more seriously.

"This is no life for you; you've obviously not been sleeping," he sighed, pushing his tea aside. "Besides, don't say that just yet… I have a… solution… of sorts," he pulled a small vial from his robes and sat it on the table between them. Harry sat up, listening intently.

"What is it? It's not poison, is it?" he asked, mock-suspiciously.

"No, Potter," he deadpanned, "it is… permanent. Once you take this potion, there is no going back; you cannot change your mind.

"I've been thinking about this for a while now… and I believe it is something worth your consideration…"

"Severus, just tell me!" The Potions Master sighed before seemingly resigning himself to an awkward explanation.

"This potion is the first in a series of sex-changing droughts. You will be a new person. You won't be Harry Potter ever again."

Harry let out a slow breath, taking in the information. It was a drastic step; a last resort kind of decision, that was certain.

"And, if I were to… do this," he paused, toying with his cup, "what exactly would happen?"

"Your DNA would change completely. This potion regime will change your biological, and therefore magical, makeup. It will reform your body, taking genes and traits from your family DNA strands. You will be related, by blood, to the Evans and Potter lines, but, essentially, you will be a distant relative. Your life as Harry Potter will end."

"That's… a lot. I mean… I hate what my life has become, but…" he gulped. Was he really so sick of his life? Was he willing to end it all and become another person? A _woman_? "I have to think about it."

"Of course," he placed the vial back in his robes. "Let me know whenever you're ready." He sounded gentle; more gentle than Harry remembered hearing him in… ever.

"Ok."

X

**November 6, 1999**

"Harry Potter!"

"Look! It's Harry Potter!"

"Quick, Gretta! Get the camera!"

"Harry!"

"Mr Potter! Over here!"

For the first time in two months, Harry had ventured out to Diagon Alley. And he was mobbed by fans and paparazzi as though it was the day after the war ended. _This is ridiculous_, he thought, pushing his way through the crowd.

He was meeting Ron and Hermione for lunch, but he didn't know if he'd make it alive! The crowd of crazy people was so thick; they followed him everywhere. He was tempted to start hexing and cursing the next person to touch him.

"Mate!" He looked up at Ron's familiar voice, relieved beyond reason to see the redhead's freckled face.

"Ron!"

"Buzz off, you bloody vultures!" He waved his arms, trying to shoo the crowd away. "Come on, Tom's letting us use his back room for lunch," he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and steered him towards the Leaky Cauldron, using himself as a kind of shield.

"Thanks," Harry breathed as they reached the pub. "It's a bit ridiculous, isn't it?"

"Just a bit," the Weasley grinned.

They met Hermione in the back room.

"Thanks, Tom!" they chorused, making the innkeeper grin.

"Harry," Ron began, looking a bit nervous.

"We have something to tell you," said Hermione.

"What?" He eyed them warily. _Is Hermione pregnant?_

"We've decided to… see other people," Hermione answered.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Yes."

They laughed, glad the tension was dealt with.

"That's it? That's the big news you dragged me here for? You couldn't have come to my place and said it?"

"Yes. And no; you need to get out of your house, Harry. You've become a reclusive hermit!" Harry sighed, and then grinned; he loved his friends.

"Ok, then. What's for lunch?"

X

It had been a while since Harry had been able to see Ron and Hermione. He'd been trapped by the mob of fans and they'd been living their own lives. It was good to get to see them again. But, after being accosted by yet _more_ insane fans, he'd made his decision.

He apparated to Severus' house and knocked on the door, having escaped the crowd in Knockturn Alley.

"Potter? What're you –"

"I've made my decision."

"I see. Come in," he held the door open, ushering his ex-pupil inside. "Sit down. Tell me what's happened to make you decide so soon."

"I met with Ron and Hermione today," he began, sitting on the old couch. "Seeing them move on with their own lives made me want that too. And, I know they'll be ok without me… I can just… disappear." He knew he was probably being selfish, but he wanted to be able to move on with his life. The media frenzy and the idiot fanatics at his door made it hard for him to move past his front door, let alone the Battle of Hogwarts.

"I see. And you're sure you want to leave them in the dark about what you're doing?"

"Yes. This is… for me. I need to be able to escape, but if I have them there all the time… I'll… I'm afraid I'll still be me… and I won't be able to move on." He dropped his gaze to his knees, frowning. "That… and I know that if they know what's happened, someone else will find out and it will be for nothing."

"You've thought this through, then? You're willing to give up all you know? All you have?"

"Yes."

"Why do you think you're ready?"

"Because… it'll never go away. Since I was eleven, people have followed my every move. The _Prophet_ has been writing about me for years – before I started Hogwarts. I'm sick of it. All of it. And now, especially since Voldemort is gone, they'll never leave me alone."

"You're absolutely certain then?"

"Yes."

"Alright. You need to organise your affairs and do exactly as I say. Understand?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Consider what I'm doing now your birthday and Christmas gifts for the next few years." Harry grinned, grateful for his professor.

X

**November 7, 1999**

The next day, Harry paid a visit to Gringott's. He had his affairs to settle – according to Severus.

He was to remove a year's worth of money from his vault. He didn't know how much he'd need, so Severus advised a few thousand Galleons as well as a bag each of Sickles and Knuts.

After his withdrawal, he was to ensure the rest of the Potter (and Black) vault would be dealt with appropriately.

After his gender-reassignment, he wouldn't have access to the Potter or Black vaults. So, while he still could, he would ensure he received a stipend from each vault every month, allowing him to pay for everyday necessities. The idea for the stipend came from Severus.

"It is common for a pureblood family to provide a certain amount of money to a young woman of relation, to support herself until marriage. It usually pays for food and clothing. She would be allowed the use of an estate until her marriage, when she would then live with her husband's family," he'd said. So, Harry decided to open an account, branching from both the Black and Potter vaults, for his future self.

He was safe in Gringott's. The Goblins didn't allow the media inside and they certainly didn't allow stupid mobs of crazy fans. Waiting in line was boring and quiet.

Harry loved it. He wished he'd had more business with the bank in the past.

Finally, it was his turn.

"Mr Potter," an elderly-looking goblin called. "How may I be of assistance?"

"I have several things to take care of," he hesitated. "I have an account to open and… a few other things. Is there someone I can see after I make a withdrawal?"

"Of course. Follow me," and the creature led him to the cart, taking him to his trust vault.

Once there, he decided to empty the trust account. He'd give some money to Severus to cover the cost of the potions he needed.

Then, minutes later, they were in a little office, discussing his future financial affairs.

"Can I trust that none of this will make it to the newspapers or magazines or any kind of media, Muggle or Wizarding?" Severus had told him to be very specific.

"Anything to do with client confidentiality is guarded by Goblin and Wizarding law. The employees of Gringott's are all under a Vow or Oath, prohibiting any private information to be leaked to the public in any way. Your secrets are safe, Mr Potter."

So, with confidence, Harry explained what was happening; the potion, the way he wanted his accounts handled, and how his future self was to receive a monthly stipend from each Family Vault.

"Very well, Mr Potter. Do you wish to sign over the accounts to your… heir? You would still be the sole heir of each account, but, as you will no longer be male, you will need a Head of House to sign official papers and to approve what happens to the money. Do you have a male you can trust?"

Harry thought about it. Ron would usually be his first choice. Or Mr Weasley. But he was leaving them all out of his plan. Then, the perfect solution came to him!

"Yes. I'd like to appoint Severus Snape as my Head of House," he nearly laughed. _Maybe I'm in Slytherin now, after all_.

"Very good, Mr Potter. Sign these," a small stack of parchments popped in front of him.

He read through each page, briefly, before signing his fortunes to Severus, as of November 20, 1999. He gave himself two weeks to organise himself as the heir to both accounts and estates.

"Ok. So, I need to open an account for myself. Can I use my old trust vault? I emptied it before."

"Yes, I think that can be arranged. But you need a name to sign over."

"I don't have one yet."

"Then you should get one and come back."

And that was that.

He just needed a name.

X

After apparating to his living room, Harry fire-called Severus, bellowing into the man's living room.

Severus stepped out of the grate, gracefully. He'd made such progress with his intensive physical therapy. Harry was amazed. And proud.

"What do you want, you incorrigible brat?"

"I need an identity. I need a name."

"So make one."

"I'd like you to name me." That made the man pause.

"Me?"

"No. The other Severus Snape, standing next to you," he deadpanned.

"Why me?"

"I don't know. Just… Will you do it?"

"Iris. Your mother always liked Iris for a girl," he agreed quickly. Harry smiled.

"Iris?" Severus nodded. "And a last name? I probably shouldn't use Potter or Black. People would come to ask questions. Any suggestions?" Severus hesitated before answering.

"Well…" he sat down on the couch, hands clasped.

"What?" Harry sat next to him.

"My mother's name… her maiden name was Prince. You're very distantly related to the Prince line through both the Blacks and Potters.

"You mean… you're like my 32nd cousin, fifty times removed or something?" Harry grinned.

"Something like that," he smirked.

"And… you'll let me use your mother's name?"

'It's only a name," he shrugged. But Harry could see it meant more to Severus than that.

"I like it. Iris Prince. Thank you, Severus." He leant over, hugging the Potions Master briefly.

"Is that all?"

"Almost. I… took the liberty of naming you as my Head of House for the Potter and Black vaults. And this is for you." He handed over a large, full, bag. Severus peered inside curiously, before scowling and trying to shove the money back at Harry.

"What is this for? Don't insult me!"

"It's for the potions and any other cost you might need to cover. Take it!"

"I told you! This is a gift for the next few birthdays and Christmases… I don't want your money, Potter."

"Sev," he sighed, taking the man's hand, opening the palm gently. "Take it. Use it for ingredients or something." He pressed the bag into the large palm. Severus sighed.

"I will accept one quarter."

"Two thirds."

"Half."

"Deal." Harry grinned. "You're a good friend, Severus." His only reply was a sniff and a crossing of the man's arms.

"We're not _friends_… more like familiar acquaintances," he smirked.

"Oh, forgive me. The line is so thin, I barely noticed," his grin broadened.

"When do we start the potions regime?"

"As soon as I get back from Gringott's. I have an account to open."

**AN:** Thank you to all our reviewers! I hope you all enjoy a very slow-paced, somewhat intricate plot. We have a lot planned for this story.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Three**

**November 20, 1990**

"Is everything ready?" Severus asked, arranging five little bottles on his old kitchen table.

"Yes. I left a note in Grimmauld Place and I have everything that means something to me. I'm ready."

For two weeks, while Severus brewed the last few potions, Harry had been organising everything. He'd gone through all his possessions and kept only his most treasured items. He left his school books to be donated to Hogwarts and a few old pieces of equipment were to be donated to a second-hand store for students with a budget. Everything else was thrown away.

With his precious few treasures shrunken and packed in an expandable bag, Harry was ready to change his life.

X

"Before we begin, I want you to read this," Severus hands over a piece of parchment with a hasty scrawl covering the surface.

"What's this?" his only reply was a raised brow. "Right." It read:

_Gender reassignment potion regime._

_Potion 1: This potion will prepare the subject's body for the upcoming change. Take one night before next potion._

_Potion 2: The second potion alters the subject's DNA. Magic is subsequently affected. Chromosomes change from Y to X, but no physical changes occur. Take one night before next potion._

_Potion 3: The third potion induces physical changes. The subject's appearance changes in musculature and bone structure. Genitalia are not affected. Take three nights before next potion._

_Potion 4: The fourth potion continues physical changes. Penis shrinks to form a clitoris; testes become infertile, shrink and are absorbed into the body, inverting to form the vulva. Ovaries, uterus and womb form. Take five nights before next potion._

_Potion 5: The final potion induces female hormones to flow – akin to a 'test run'. The subject will commence menstrual cycle; may experience cramps and bloating. The forming of ovaries and womb etc will be completed. Breasts will develop within weeks of final potion. Sizes may vary due to DNA. One week of bed rest is advised for recovery._

_Please note: Hormonal imbalance is a possible side effect. The subject may experience bouts of anger, depression, unexplained happiness and/or possible nausea. The gender reassignment potion regime is not traceable. Subjects undergoing change are advised to register with the Ministry of Magic._

Harry looked up at Severus, his face contorted in a look of disbelief and horror. "Are you _serious!_" he flicked the parchment onto the coffee table and flopped back into the couch. "I mean… I have to actually have a… a… '_menstrual cycle'_? Gross!" He pulled a face. "And it's going to take eight days to go through all the potions _plus_ a week of bed rest? This is ridiculous!"

Severus sat gracefully in the armchair next to his couch and sighed.

"I never said this was an easy fix. It is going to be a long process. And possibly quite painful." He wasn't even teasing Harry now. It must be serious.

"Sev… I… I don't know. I just want it all to stop. I know it won't. Unless they think I'm dead or evil, I'll always have a crowd of nutters following me, trying to steal my buttons…" he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Do you think I can do this? Is it worth it?"

"I know you're capable of going through this. As for the worth of the experience… that's completely up to you."

After a long, thoughtful silence, Harry gave another weary sigh and looked back up to his, now, close friend.

"I'll do it."

X

The first potion was… revolting. Disgusting. Vile. It promptly knocked him out.

Several hours later, he awoke, finding himself tucked into a soft bed. He was in Severus' guest room.

"Are you hungry?" the man's voice murmured from next to the bed. He shook his head, too tired to even make an effort to speak. "I know you're tired. The potion knocks you out to prepare your hormone levels for the change. You've been asleep for nearly ten hours. You will take the next potion at the same time tonight. If you're still asleep, I'll coax it down your throat." Harry nodded, falling back to sleep.

X

**November 22, 1999**

Harry woke with a groan, clutching his stomach. He'd taken the third potion only a few hours ago, and he felt like being sick until he felt normal again.

The physical changes were wracking his body, shifting bones and muscles, making him more feminine. As he understood the parchment Severus had given him, this part of the transition would take three days. For another three days, he would feel nauseous and would ache from the shifting of his very makeup. He groaned again, curling into himself.

Soon, a cool cloth was pressed to his forehead; a large, gentle hand rubbed his back. It was heaven. He leant into the hand on his back, urging it to keep going.

"Sev'rus," he murmured, still half asleep, half pain-addled. "Feels good," he managed, before passing out again.

The next time he woke was the next day, around lunch time. He was _starving_.

Everything ached and clicked and protested every move he made, but he ignored it all for the growls emanating from his stomach.

"Lunch?" Severus appeared, carrying a tray of sandwiches and orange juice.

"Yes! Thank you!" as soon as the tray touched his lap, he dug into the sandwiches, wolfing them down. Once finished, he blinked in thought before asking, "Do you have any chocolate? Or biscuits? Muffins?" He gazed hopefully at his caretaker.

"I will see what I can do," the usually-grumpy man smiled gently, amused by something Harry didn't know about.

"What?" he glared, suspicious.

"The change in hormonal balance has resulted in cravings. This is common for women undergoing their menstrual cycles and pregnancy," he said matter-of-factly. "It seems your body id taking quite well to the gender reassignment. This is very fortunate."

"Yeah. I feel fortunate. My _bones_ ache, Sev!" he grumbled, rubbing his hands along his arms. "My hands are smaller! And listen to me! My voice is breaking! It's like reverse puberty!"

Indeed, his voice was changing already. He had a higher pitch and a slight, feminine lilt. It didn't sound bad, but he was used to a deeper tone.

"Yes. You're becoming a woman. I should hope you were to be _less_ masculine than before – if possible," he smirked. "Imagine, Potter, if you were a bearded lady? You could join a Muggle circus and hide from the Ministry and all your fans with a side show." He chuckled when Harry glared. "Don't worry, I'm sure you will be beautiful," he teased, dodging a slap, leaving the room before his ward could hurl something at him.

Harry sighed, laying back in the soft but firm pillows. He hoped his life after the potions was worth it all.

X

**November 25, 1999**

The fourth potion was just as bad as the first three – if not worse. Harry nearly gagged as he swallowed the tiny amount of liquid.

"Ugh! Severus! Can't you do something about the taste?" he griped, flopping back in bed.

"No. It would affect the potion. Drink some tea," he said, summoning a cup, saucer and teapot. "Do you need anything else?"

"Uhm…" he fidgeted, playing with his teacup.

"What is it?"

"Would you… give me a foot rub?" he could feel his face flushing brilliantly.

But then, with a sigh, Severus peeled back the bed covers and complied.

The large, warm hands deftly worked the tension from his feet, making him moan embarrassingly. Severus chuckled and continued rubbing the slender little feet Harry now sported.

So far, his body had become smaller; more feminine and rather delicate. He still had a penis and testicles – which he enjoyed using when he could – but his features were now that of a woman.

His hair was longer and thicker; it was easier to tame, too. His eyes were a darker green and he no longer needed his glasses. His face was a smaller, rounder shape, with a cute little nose (even if he said so himself).

His hands and feet were noticeably smaller, his body taking on a softer form – his hips broadening, waist curving in, while his chest became… tender. He could feel his breasts developing; his nipples were sore and the once-firm muscles of his pectorals were softer and more sensitive.

Essentially, he was still male, but now… he _felt_ female. The hormonal changes also affected the way he thought and felt. He found himself being more concerned with things like hygiene and tidiness; he'd bugged Severus about changing the bed linens a few times over the past couple of days; as well as wanting to bathe at least twice a day.

The physical changes would take place within twenty-four hours of drinking the potion. Harry had four hours left. And he couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He was so nervous!

This was the potion that actually made his penis and testicles shrink!

To be honest, he wasn't really that concerned about it because he was overly worried about masculinity and machoness – he wouldn't have decided to go through with any of this if he was – it was the simple reason that he didn't actually know how girls… worked. Sure, he knew the bits they had and roughly what to do in sex and everything… but his only real experience was kissing Cho and Ginny. And both relationships ended one way or another, so he'd never had intercourse.

Thinking about this made his head hurt. He wished he could have been a normal guy… but that's why he was doing this; he wanted a chance at a normal life and really, he didn't care if it was as a male or female.

Just as he was pondering women's underwear, Severus came in with a pot of tea.

"I brought up some tea for your nerves, if you have any. You have about an hour until the gender reassignment phase _really_ starts." He handed a cup to Harry, taking a seat next to his legs – which turned out quite nicely, Harry thought.

"Thanks, Sev. I haven't been able to sleep or eat; I'm a bit nervous actually. Do you know if it'll hurt?"

"Yes, it hurt the last time I tried this. I swore, 'never again, Severus'," he drawled, raising a brow. Harry gave him an unimpressed look over his cup.

"Arse. I meant: do you know if it hurt _others_ who've done this? Are there journals on it? Did anyone make a log of it?"

"Unfortunately, no. This is a rather private situation, so most wizarding folk would keep it to themselves."

"Oh." He hesitated, thinking about his next question. "Do you think… as an anonymous author, I could – _should_ – make a documentation of the process?"

"… That… actually has merit," the man grudgingly admitted, his tone making Harry smirk.

"Surprised?"

"Naturally," he smirked back.

X

Severus had, in his own way, been rather… keen to document Harry's transformation into Iris. He'd set up a pensieve in his study, with quills, bottles of ink and scrolls of parchment, ready to document every aspect.

But first, Harry needed to take the fourth potion. There were only ten minutes to go.

Harry was nervous. Very nervous. In ten minutes, the _real_ transformation began. He would begin the process of _complete_ gender reassignment.

Although he looked and felt female now, he still had male genitals. In twenty-four hours, he'd be completely female.

Over the past few days, he'd made sure he "enjoyed" his male parts when he could. He wasn't the kind of person to worry about "male pride" or the size of his penis… but he _liked_ masturbating. It felt good. Really good. And, as embarrassed as he was to admit it even to himself, he had no idea how women got off.

He knew how sex was supposed to work; "Insert Tab P into Slot V", etc, but… how did women do it? How did they masturbate? He was fine with being a virgin, male or female, but he liked to have some kind of stress relief available to him!

_That's it! I have no choice… I'll have to ask Severus… Well… if I can't find out before I die of… do women _get_ blue balls?_

Just as he was pondering the issue, at one minute to go, Severus arrived with the usual tray od tea and the potion.

"How do you feel?" Severus handed over the vial.

"Still nervous," he replied, drinking the foul liquid as quickly as possible. "Ugh! That's the worst one yet!" He handed back the empty vial, swapping it for a cup of tea.

Severus merely smirked and sipped his own cup of tea. Harry glared at him suspiciously.

"What?"

"I'd hate to see you imbibe something like whiskey. Your face would never unscrew," he raised his eyebrows, still smirking.

"Git. I've had whiskey before… and that's why I don't drink it now," he sniffed, poking out his tongue. Severus chuckled.

"Very lady-like," he teased. Harry rolled his eyes. He wasn't Iris yet.

As soon as this phase was over, he'd told Severus he'd like to be called Iris. He felt female, and _looked_ female… but he wanted to _be_ female before taking on his new identity.

With that thought, he promptly passed out, not even having time to notice Severus catch his teacup and place the tray on the bedside table.

X

Several hours later, Harry awoke… only to wish he hadn't.

His stomach rolled and roiled, giving him a sick, nauseous feeling in his chest and throat; his head pounded, aching in a way he'd never experienced. Sharp pain shot across his skull, straight through the centre, while the rest just ached with a constant dull throbbing.

Through this, he still managed to feel the pain in his groin.

His penis was aching similarly to his head, though it felt as though it was being frozen off. His testicles felt like a troll had clubbed him as hard as it could; his pelvis, now curved into a feminine shape, was aching and tingling.

With a groan, he rolled into a foetal position, trying to ward off the pain and nausea, before passing out once more.

_AN: And so it begins… _


End file.
